


The Journal of the Mysterious Witch

by LadyHallen



Series: Journals [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Magical Evolution, Near Extinction, POV First Person, apocalypse au, epistolary novel, seriously, survivalism, there is no timeline here, time skipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10061582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHallen/pseuds/LadyHallen
Summary: A Journal found in the year 3054 has left the people agog. It explains the survival of wizard-kind from the mass genocide attempted in 1998 by the world from the point-of-view of the wisest woman. They have to translate it though. Rated T for the curse words.





	

_I find that what doesn't kill you…makes you crazier._

_-the JOKER, Batman – the Dark Knight -_

* * *

 

**Entry one – date undetermined**

It has been a long time since we have seen sunlight. Perhaps years, perhaps months. I cannot tell for certain, only that the survivors of the war behaved oddly for a while before they named me Druid.

The first was one man. He started to hallucinate about things seen in the walls. A muggleborn explained to us, after he had taken several calming draughts, that he was suffering from claustrophobia, a fear of the cramped spaces. That was unfortunate since we were cramped. Nearly fifty of us tucked in the caves found under the mountain ranges.

The incident sparked an idea in me. I told one of the people and they agreed. It was pretty nice. And when the idea reached everyone, they agreed. Since underground is pretty much where we would live, they decided to throw in their lot with it and build houses underground.

The ones most adamant against it were the purebloods. I mean I even anticipated the complaints from their corner. They had lived all their lives pampered and scarcely working, living off the inheritance that they gained from their ancestors and barely contributing an inch to society. Eventually, they cornered me, having realized that the idea of working a network of underground tunnels was my idea. I managed to convince them that it was either work in the tunnels or go outside and die, hunted down by the muggles.

They agreed, which surprised me. I thought they would rather sacrifice their lives for their pureblood beliefs. I suppose having two of their women pregnant worked for my case as well.

 

**Entry two**

I wonder who started out the Druid idea. But still, it was a nice concept. I looked it up in one of the few books a muggleborn had brought with her and it said a witch/wizard with incredible resiliency, with a difficulty to bow down to any situation. I liked it. I suppose it did describe my cockroach-like tendencies.

There are now two of us Druids, by the way. He has red hair and sharp eyes. How that came about, even I was surprised.

The wizard that suffered from claustrophobia was not alone. There were a dozen of them, and all of them used up the dreamless sleep which most of us needed as well. A young man, who had been listening as one of the mediwitches complained to me, told me his suggestion. I liked it.

He said that since they wanted the sun so much, they would be in charge of digging upwards. When I pointed out the fact that we were supposed to be digging downwards to avoid detection, he countered that we could not hide forever and thus prepare ourselves for detection. He also added that we needed a cave close to the surface, where we could grow our plants for potions.

The last one won me over. It took three suggestions from him, all sensible ones, until people started calling him Druid as well. Both of us seem to have lost our names. I like that even better.

 

**Entry three**

The digging had an unintended effect on all of our bodies. We now have sharp claws. Magic always did have a way to adapt itself to changes.

We have dug our way under the mountain. One of the older pureblood witches took one look at the disorganized chaos and suggested an organization of the tunnels, so as to keep us from descending into barbarians. Surprisingly, several muggleborns agreed. They said that it was organized cities that clued in humans to the fact that the people creating the cities were educated.

Naturally, people looked to me and my fellow Druid for help. Luckily, dirt is easy to find in the tunnels and a wand is a stick of a sort.

I started out with a simple diagram that ended up large and complicated. We ended up having a full meeting, a first one since the tunnel suggestion since there was always someone checking the tunnels to ensure that our spells do not run out of oxygen.

We ended up having a central room for such meetings, a kitchen, several storage rooms and a lot of rooms. Tempers ran high. A muggleborn witch, the same one whose texts I keep borrowing, raised her hand among the chaos and pointed out something that had everybody muttering.

The only thing keeping us together was survival. The moment someone realized that they were safe, plots would continue and the very war, which we just escaped, might just destroy all the hard earned efforts we were doing just to survive.

My redheaded friend pointed out that it seemed to be against the nature of humanity to avoid peace. As long as people survived, there would always be war.

This time, I patted him gently in the head and called him all kinds of idiot.

It was the purebloods that surprised me this time. I would always be surprised by the purebloods.

They all swore on their magic against doing any kind of violence or any kind of movement that would knowingly threaten the peace of the caves. Any violence against the caves would be followed through with complete and total retribution. The others followed. All of them did so. When they saw me and my fellow Druids looking on in surprise, the muggleborn had joined our ranks by the time the meeting was halfway through, they said that the war was a mistake and that survival was more important than petty squabbles.

I admitted that it was a pretty binding oath and I moved to do the same. They watched as each of us did it. It made me feel better, I am sad to say. The tension that existed in the caves eased.

 

**Entry four**

The problem with hygiene and clothing did not touch our minds until someone fell ill. The muggleborn immediately knew that an epidemic would kill us unless we did something. Well, someone did do something.

The team of claustrophobic men had dug their way out of the mountain and the sun touched our faces for the first time in whatever years. Many of us could not look at the light. It hurt our sensitive eyes. The darkness had caused magic to change our eyes. Looking at my companions for the first time, I saw that their eyes had grown large and slightly pointy.

Back to the problem of hygiene.

The mountain was very tall and had a lot of snow. Melted snow was very clean and several warming charms later, we bathed and dressed ourselves. Cleaning charms just did not do justice to the touch of water.

My fellow Druids and I devised a way for the water to melt continuously and obscurely, so that nobody would notice snow disappearing down the mountain. We led it through the tunnels. I admit it was this point that I got the inspiration from the Romans. We created an aqueduct. It ran through the commons room and the communal baths. It joined the stream outside the mountain and since we were meticulous about our waste management, nobody ever noticed that the water was slightly murky. It was the kind of dirt that would settle in the riverbed anyway.

Clothes were solved by a blond witch with a slightly absent expression. Plenty of people had complained about her to us, but since she wasn't causing harm, we couldn't exactly ban the acromantula she was having as a pet. We remembered that acromantulas wove webs and we had acromantula webbing as part of our clothing. A group of people volunteered about treating the webs to make silk.

 

**Entry five**

Someone broached something in the next counsel. We had a garden with almost no plants.

We had hidden the hole made with obscuring charms and several herbologists had leaped at the chance to make a proper garden. But they had brought very few seedlings. I don't blame them since the alarm came in the middle of the night.

Next thing you know, there was talk of a party going on a trip to recover plants. Almost instantly, there is a clamor for things they needed.

The three of us exchanged glances and I shrugged. It had almost become an unspoken agreement that we gave advice only when they asked for it, not because they needed it.

One witch asked for someone to go pass by her manor to grab her mothers' jewelry. That's where my redheaded friend got angry. He was a usually quiet and observant wizard and people were surprised when he stood up.

"My parents are dead, as are all my siblings. They died to send me away. You talk about jewelry. Next thing, you will all ask for money. We have no money here. Here, we are a community. We share things. We didn't ask her if we could have some of her acromantula's webs for clothes. We didn't ask the healers to heal us. They gave it to us."

Several people opened their mouths to shout back, but my muggleborn friend stood up also.

"It is sentimentality, you see," she whispered. "That is why you would risk several brave people? Just sentimentality? The people you love live in here –" she pointed to her heart. "- and here." She pointed to her temples. "You don't need material things to remind yourself of them. Just touch yourself and you will remember the sacrifice that your beloved ones did just to you could live. You are the proof of that they lived."

By that time, people were crying.

I destroyed the moment later by asking for volunteers for the plant expedition. Suprisingly, a large number of people asked to join them.

 

**Entry six**

Revenge always shimmered beneath the surface of our activities. Several of us wanted the muggles to burn. Hell, even I was convinced that killing the lot of them would be a good way to start with the way they killed my teachers.

One brave soul noticed the current of our angry thoughts and nipped it quickly enough. It was a boy with a plain brown face and plump cheeks. I remembered him among the herbologists. Oddly enough, he had stayed behind to watch over the small garden. Since he was only my age, I wondered at the skill he must have to have all the rest of the herbologists trust him.

He raised the topic of revenge in the next counsel, noticeably smaller with a lot of worried witches. (Since the expedition was still ongoing)

"I don't think revenge is a good idea," he started. "Think of it this way. They probably all think we are gone for good. And then if we attack, there are dozens more we cannot defend. It would alert them that we are alive. The best revenge is living and making sure that our kind don't die out."

I understood what he was saying. I was the first to call him Druid.

 

**Entry seven**

The women all approached the Druids about the lack of privacy. There were no doors to be had since we had no wood. We eventually settled on curtains. And on that note, there was another problem. Since we can't knock on dirt, and curtains don't make a sound when you knock on it, we wondered what to do for knocking. Yelling entry was plebian, they said.

I found the solution when I was looking at the crystals in the storeroom. That was another one of my problems. I could not find use for it since we had gotten used to the darkness and needed little light. When I knocked it together, it made for a tinkling sound. We used it for warning bells in substitute for knocking. It worked marvelously.

 

**Entry eight**

One of the potions masters noticed a red stone in his bag. Upon experimentation, he realized it was the elixir of life. He immediately offered it to me. I placed it in the niche where we got our water for drinking. The stone does not melt and it was only slightly diluted elixir. We have not had any illness in a while.

The mediwitches now spend their time experimenting. I hope it is not something that would endanger the lives of the people in the caves.

Several of them, upon the Druids request, are working on making something nutritious but does not need much vegetables. Indeed, our vegetable garden is no bigger than our herb garden.

A bigger problem rose when one of the pregnant women gave birth.

 

**Entry nine**

Somehow, our language has evolved. Amongst the people we live with are a couple of Bulgarians and French, even some Irish. The only language that all of us speak fluently is Latin, since that is the basis of most spells. But even that is now mixed with some curses from the French and some adjectives from the Bulgarians. Even the English terms we use have devolved back to its roots. Latin was the origin of the English language.

 

**Entry ten**

When the newborn baby was given to the Druids to bless, all of us, upon touching the child, realized one thing. The baby had an abnormally large magical core. We could all feel it.

"It cannot be normal." The muggleborn said. She was always respectful of the redhead since he was a pureblood.

"No, it isn't. The child is special," he said.

I closed my eyes and hummed, drawing out my magical core. The baby's responded. It was fairly scary.

"We will watch him and all the other pregnant women," I said. "This could be the effect of the magical genocide, or something else."

All of us flinched at the reminder. We gave the baby back to its mother, our smiles slightly strained but nobody noticed. We have gotten good at hiding our expressions.

There is also something special happening today. It is the day that the plant expedition came back and with them came several surprises.

 

**Entry eleven**

The herbologist Druid was ecstatic with the herbs they gathered, but I was more curious of the people they brought with them.

"Who are they?" I asked.

"In our foray, Head Druid, we came across these people. They were being held in facilities, experimenting on them so as to steal their magic."

My fury was great. I felt the same answering anger in amongst my fellow Druids, but we made sure nobody else felt it. We were sure they would be afraid of our anger. We always acted impassive and logical. Somehow, in our long acquaintance, I could feel their emotions, and they could feel mine.

The muggleborn was always the most levelheaded among us. So she gathered herself up and said in rough English, "You will rest, and then you will tell us your story in the next counsel."

We all agreed, sending her waves of agreement through our faint link. The women who were not weaving acromantula silk and who were not on kitchen duty, all took care of the thirty of our guests upon our request.

They were placed in the same corridor to breed comfort. I think the darkness fairly frightened them. This was confirmed to me by one of the pureblood women I assigned to their care.

"They are frightened of the dark. It does not help that all they can see of us is our eyes," she pointed out.

Another problem I solved by using the crystals. I hung them on the high ceiling and planted light in it. This was not through any spell. This was raw power. By the time I was finished, most of the corridors were lit with a soft, muted glow. It did not hurt our sensitive eyes.

But there were some corridors I left unlit, like the entry way and the kitchens. The commons room took some time since I placed dozens of crystals in the ceiling, almost like chandeliers. I was staggering and my fellow Druids were alarmed by my state of exhaustion.

I slept for three days, and by which time, the redhead, the muggleborn and the herbologist were all a little irritable. They said that they never realized how much of the mundane problems I settled until I was asleep and unable to do it for them.

 

**Entry twelve**

The counsel was different this time. Most of those who had been away were surprised by the changes in the tunnels. They had to acclimate fairly quickly to the change in the language. I think they did well, considering they only botched up some Bulgarian words. Latin and French did come easily to us.

The thirty muggleborn witches and wizards that they rescued held on to each other. They were frightened of our appearance. In the light of the crystals, I checked the changes our bodies had since I last saw the sun.

We now had pointed ears. Our skin was deathly pale, with blue veins mapping our hands. Our claws were slightly duller. But our eyes were still large and luminescent.

"Excuse me for asking this," one of the children came forward, "But what are you?"

Irritatingly, all of the people looked to me. Since I still needed more sleep, I was slightly cranky, but nobody knew that.

"We were once human, child," I answered her with a smile. "But our kind were hunted to extinction and we escaped to the darkness of this mountain. We were plenty, so we decided to throw in our lot with the darkness and make a new home. Our bodies adapted to the change, so that we could live more comfortably."

Their expressions were horrified.

"We are wizards and witches," I finished with a flourish.

They all flinched. One of the children whimpered.

"Please don't call us that," a woman pleaded. "They called us that, trying to take what we had. They were contemplating burning us at the stake when they failed."

We couldn't help it. Most of us laughed. The witch burnings were back! What a joke.

The muggleborn came forward and told them the story, of how there was a place where witches born from non-magical families were brought to learn the craft. I think she managed to convince them about the beauty of Hogwarts, and the pain all wizards felt when the castle fell to muggle weapons. Then one of the French told of the fall of Beauxbatons.

They all wept. The healers gave them water.

They said that their families had called the authorities when the magic came. They were having outbursts all over the place and most of them thought they were going mad.

The women welcomed them. The people were all happy to have more of their kind. I think the rescued people would have been happier not seeing us. But I foresaw a lot of digging on going. I just knew there would be wishes to see if there was something we could do for the other muggleborns.

 

**Entry thirteen**

There were plenty of scuffles and arguments. Eventually, the muggleborn Druid decided to hold a class for the evacuees. It was all on wandless magic. We no longer had wandmakers.

Meanwhile, I was brainstorming with all the rest of the people on where to settle them.

"Why cannot they stay here?" was the frequently asked question coupled with, "What are we going to do with those left behind?"

The answer came in one of the talks. We already lived in the mountain ranges of the Himalayas. There were plenty of cliffs. We settled for letting them live under the cliffs, with the spells the Bulgarians used for keeping themselves warm in the cold weather. Enough sunlight filtered through the towering mountains to keep them happy and they were far enough that the snow turned into a lush lake.

This settled into a rhythm. Those in need of lessons came to the caves, and we exchanged this service for food. The entryway for this was always unlit to prevent invaders, but the people from the village learned to adapt quickly by listening to the faint sound of the chimes.

 

**Entry fourteen**

Frequent forays into the outside world made their village bigger. The only way to the village was through the tunnels. We decided to dig a direct route from the village to the outside world. And then we extracted an oath from them to never use it unless the need was dire. They didn't want to, anyway. Most of them view the tunnels as a second home.

Every new arrival was scarred and afraid. Most of them were angry. We gave them the peace of the caves and they all fell weeping. I think there was something in our expressions that made them think we were sympathetic. I think it was the eyes.

We are now tracking children as young as five years old. Any sign of magic, and the child would be replaced by a baby from the orphanage, with a glamoirie to make them look alike.

 

**Entry fifteen**

It is now a proven fact. Something was happening to the newborn children. They all had abnormally large cores.

I thought the magical genocide had something to do with it, but the Druids all vetoed that idea, telling me that there should be an outbreak of muggleborn witches if that was the case.

Eventually, we realized that any child born closer to the core of the earth was stronger. When we shared this news to the counsel, they were ecstatic. They all went and agreed with each other to make a birthing area, where pregnant women would live. It would be as close as they could get to the heart of the earth without killing each other.

 

**Entry sixteen**

It is now close to eighty years since we hid in the caves. Nobody died ever since I placed the philosophers stone in the drinking area. But the elixir of life was merely diluted. It was not the concentrated potion that the Maker originally intended it to be. So we had our first death in nearly a century, and we all mourned.

The redhead Druid did a complicated spell and his lifeblood went to the stone. It became larger. His remains went back to the earth. His wife cried particularly hard at this. Apparently, this practice had been outlawed as barbaric, but it was merely honoring the earth.

With death also comes life. The mediwitches tell me that they have had a breakthrough.

 

**Entry seventeen**

Through borrowing some pieces of the stone, they had managed to make artificial wombs where the women did not need to get pregnant.

This roused an outcry amongst the people. If this were approved to be as a standard of living, the child would not have the love of a mother. I eventually raised the fact that some women could not get pregnant and could perhaps use the new method. There were some consensus but they all agreed that this would be used rarely, but not outright discarded.

Another of their projects was finished, they said. They managed to create something nutritious and healthy, with the minimum use of vegetables. It was a small flask that had an entire days meal inside it. This proved to be extremely useful for the teams that went to find the muggleborn children for the village.

 

**Entry eighteen**

On the topic of children, our camp has swelled in proportions, enough that someone raised the topic of making another shelter. There were several other mountain ranges we could live in. Someone raised the topic of the Alps. There was a team of people that wished to transfer there. They wanted to build a place where it would replicate this one, but had its own differences.

I gave them one of the few things I managed to carry with me in my escape. It was my two-way mirror.

"When you are settled, send someone back here so we can send an acromantula with you. One of the eggs has just hatched and we don't want the egg to die in the constant movement."

They agreed. We all gave them our blessing, along with several flasks of food.

 

**Entry nineteen**

The tunnels are quieter, now that there are fewer people. We relished the quiet and someone brought an experimental instrument. It was made of wood and crystals. It had a pleasant sound when struck. We replicated it and made several songs to accompany it. Mostly humming since we now speak in whispers.

The children are all learning magic. Wandlessly, I might add. We are going to learn that as well. My fellow Druids still has not given up the idea that we might get found. We have kept our maze of an entryway, unlit and unfriendly. We placed spells there to keep away those that wished us harm. Also, we have developed a complicated spell that rings the crystals in a different manner that only those with our sensitive ears could catch, in case of an evacuation.

We placed Devils Snare in some dead ends, as well as some venomenous tentacula. Some Acromantulas volunteered to keep an eye on the entry way and to not spin so much web that people would notice their presence. We managed to make the tunnels into death traps for those who don't know it very well.

The people from the village that sometimes came to learn were now warned to stay in the lit corridors. They agreed, knowing we did things for their safety.

 

**Entry twenty**

There was a close warning. One explorer wandered in our tunnels and, unfortunately, met with a Devils Snare. The acromantulas ate his corpse. We took his belongings with curiosity and I saw that his things had stopped working the moment he entered the caves. The magical pulse, I think, has saved our lives.

We now moved carefully, but nobody else noticed. The Druids were, according to the people, fairly strange. We thought of things that nobody else did and made their lives easier.

 

**Entry twenty-one**

The people from the other camp have returned with news. The Alps were habitable and they were nicely digging their way through. Also, there was some problem of erecting another village. Perhaps one of the village elders could come and help them?

Apparating came handy in these times. We helped to create their new village, and as we left, I gave them an acromantula egg and a smaller philosophers stone. The redhead Druid gave them instructions on how the spell could be used to make it larger.

The forays went faster, now that there were two villages. The people from the villages were starting to call us the Ancients, since we were the ones who remembered the Ancient days, the better days when Magic did not have to hide so deeply.

They had their own Druids, and it was a good thing we were acquainted. They often used the mirror to ask for advice. I also used the mirror for the same manner. We traded news that way and both camps were never strangers.

 

**Entry twenty-two**

Another explorer. Two of them this time. They met the venomenous tentacula. The acromantulas ate what was left of their mangled bodies.

We were having the specialty of medicine as our education. The other camp was known for their plants and their defensive magic. My herbologist Druid friend transferred there. We will miss him.

Specialties…but there will never be a standard for education, which will probably be used as an excuse for mediocrity. I will not stand for it. There will be no standard, but there will also be no mediocrity in our magic. We will do great feats and keep it hidden. And we will mock the world that tried to stomp it out by giving it the best that we have.

**Entry twenty-three**

A curse breaker from Egypt said that it was a shame that we did not allow carvings on the walls. We looked at him funny and asked him what gave him that impression?

Next thing you know, he was carving on the walls in Ancient Runes. Some were pictures, most were runes. They told of the history of the caves. It charged the air with magic and made all of us happier. The only place I forbade him from touching with his carvings was the entryway and the maternity area. Magic was potent enough there without his runes doing something else. Everyone saw the logic in that and agreed.

We shared this news with the other camp and they wanted the curse breaker to do the same to their walls too. He was suddenly busier than anything but he, wisely, did not complain.

 

**Entry twenty-four**

We had settled and expanded into two settlement camps. Of course, that's when the complaints from the younger generations started. They wanted something to do other than guard duty, caring for plants and weaving the acromantula silk. The only fun things were the forays for the muggleborn children, which were placed in the duty roster of the adults. They wanted fun and games.

That was partially solved already by the creation of the crystal instrument. The instrument that would accompany them had to be special. I didn't want it loud lest it attract attention. I found the solution by testing out acromantula threads and making it like a lyre. Except it would break if made like a lyre. Several attempts had me an instrument that looked like a cross between a violin, a guitar and a lyre. It was imbedded with crystals that seemed to change the tune of the instrument. I really need to see the properties of this crystal. It seems to change to whatever the need of the user.

For their entertainment room, I went to the second biggest room in the entire settlement. It was supposed to be a library but seeing as we had limited books, it had devolved into an unused area where people had loud arguments and made up with equal vulgarity.

I installed a large crystal in the ceiling and it took me several tries to get it to look like an artistic attempt and not like a disaster. I cushioned one area with silk and furs that was donated from the village for possible spectators, and I placed the instruments in another area. Lastly, I placed a spell that would change the colors of the crystals with the mood of the audience. Anything else would have to be obtained via suggestion. I was tired.

 

**Entry twenty-five**

That was a success, if there ever was one. We had to make a rule that there would be no dancing and music for those with chores. They all agreed, desperate for something to do.

Games were something I could not come up with. I left that to their imaginations, and any materials they needed was my problem, apparently. Well, I placed a rule against games that would ridicule others. I didn't want bullies, directly or indirectly.

With the younger ones settled, the older ones came to me, led by a disgruntled redhead Druid. I nearly laughed at his irritation. I knew he was busy making a fountain of some sort in the commons.

I gave them the suggestion of learning how to fight like muggles. They blanched at that. I looked at them funny and asked them how well their wandless magic was coming. They conceded the point. I then added that it would be great to mix both and would probably go to great areas in helping the protection of our settlement. That won them over.

And when they tried it (there was an Asian man in the village that knew how to fight), they were having too much fun to stop. I too learned it, along with all the other Druids. The people we sparred with seemed nervous to do us serious injury but we dissuaded them of that fact quickly enough.

 

**Entry twenty-six**

A suggestion from the other camps gave me something to mull over in the next days. I was alone in thinking this over since the redhead was busy crafting weapons made of crystal and the muggleborn was occupied with settling an argument among the women.

The other settlement did not want to be strangers, and wanted to introduce the new children to each other. I agreed since it was estrangement that led to the near destruction of our world through our own civil wars.

We also could not leave our camps unprotected as well since I just knew nobody would want to stay behind.

For once, the answer did not come to me easily. It pained me to leave something unsolved.

 

**Entry twenty-seven**

A sort of standard ritual rose up when the men and women started to notice the opposite sex. It all dwindled down to the entertainment night, when all of them were there and the adults were the ones in-charge of the guard duty and the ventilation duty.

It happened like an unofficial fight over the women and the women would pick the ones they liked.

I always  _happened_  to be there, just watching to make sure there would be no bloodshed. They seemed to understand my unspoken statement since they were always respectful towards the girls that they fought over.

Speaking of hormones…

Something happened that I did not anticipate. One of the male villagers has fallen in love with one of my people. Oh, the horror… I feared for their future. Perhaps I am just exaggerating, or over reacting, but half bloods are never really welcomed in either half of their blood since they, apparently, belonged nowhere. I hoped their child would have an easier time of it.

 

**Entry twenty-eight**

Perhaps I was exaggerating the angst and drama a bit too much. When I told the news to all of the Druids (by all, I meant ALL of them), they scolded me for lacking faith in our people. I prayed they were right. They were betting the lives of the future children on this one.

I agreed to watch their romance carefully and then introduce the idea to the next counsel. Until then, my fears did not settle.

 

**Entry twenty-nine**

The counsel took it fairly well. I felt my insides melt with relief, but nobody knew that, except the other Druids. I could feel their amusement but thankfully, none of them called me out on it.

We expanded the upper tunnels that previously housed several herbologists. Some shafts of sunlight would occasionally peek through and it took some complicated charmwork for them not to suffer any wet beds and sudden drips.

I anticipated the romance of several other people and felt a bit of trepidation for the half blooded children. People are not always rational. They degrade those different from them. This I learned through experience. I tried to stall that prejudice by stating occasionally to people, that all children are precious. I think if I say it enough times, then it will become a doctrine in our society.

 

**Entry thirty**

The problem of a meeting place was solved when I remembered a jungle in South America that was still unexplored. It had a lot of untouched tunnels. But I could not suggest that as a meeting place when I had not gone there myself. So I made the decision to travel.

This was met by resounding dismay by the next counsel, I told them my reasons. This got them agreeing. But they did not want me going alone. I gave them such a look regarding that that they almost quailed. It was the others that nearly did me in. They wanted to come too. I pointed out that there would be daily brawls if there was nobody to diffuse the tension.

The counsel seemed rather fixed on the idea of sending someone with me. I had to agree especially when they refused to cower under my stare. I agreed to go with one of the young, unattached man that was the happy and carefree sort.

 

**Entry thirty-one**

After I announced my departure, everybody seemed to have suddenly found a problem to bring to me. I wanted to gnash me teeth in irritation, but I knew that they were merely worried about me.

I brought a roll of acromantula silk as an experiment and used one of the few bags we had, the ones we acquired when someone had an accident in the entryway. I attached undetectable extension charms on it, as well as several featherlight charms. It made packing extremely quick.

When I made a trip to the kitchens for some of the special flasks we used, I found an entire months supply with me, even if there were just two of us going on a trip. I looked at them funny for going to such extremes and the people on kitchen duty just shrugged, unabashed with their concern for me.

Another one who went to the extremes was the redhead Druid. I knew he and I were good friends, seeing as we worked closely, often going three days without sleep just to mull over a problem, or work out a particularly tricky argument, but packing four crystal swords and twelve crystal knives, as well as a bone dagger, was just too much.

I told him so to his face and his impassive mask dissolved to a scowl.

"You are the Head Druid," he said, ignoring my noise of protest since he knew how I felt about that title. "If you go without telling someone what your plans are for your successor, then it will create a big problem, then I'll have to solve it and miss sleep for a week or so."

He went on to use very strong Bulgarian-based adjectives and called me all kinds of idiot. I gave him a fond smile and accepted the weapons without any more complaint.

 

**Entry thirty-two**

I think it's a conspiracy. My companion is the most talkative creature in the whole world. I cannot think with the amount of chatter he produces in one setting. I think I must be going insane… Forgive the prattle of an annoyed Druid.

 

**Entry thirty-three**

The forest is very beautiful and we mostly travel unmolested since we do this at night. I use my wandless magic to detect the use of electricity and to disable it after I was warned by those who did the plant retrieval expedition that they were nearly caught because of the  _cameras_. The word sat badly on my mouth. Still, even if it is night, and night is what our eyes are built for, I had a sword out and had strapped several knives on my person.

I knew the caves were somewhere and felt the ground beneath me. Years of digging had made us all very adept with using our magic with the ground. I felt yards of hollowness all under me but I could not find the exit. It felt…wet, somehow.

"Head Druid?" my companion asked.

I nearly hissed at him in annoyance but just allowed a frown to get out. "Yes?"

"A problem?" he asked tentatively.

I wanted to stomp on his feet but restrained myself. He was always talking! It was rare to find any of our kind as talkative as him. We whispered and this little creature talked!

"You will find us shelter. I will look for the caves using my senses. And do not talk, or disturb me, unless someone is dying." I said in response to his query.

He shrugged, well used to my curt answers. Merlin's beard, what an exasperating companion!

 

**Entry thirty-four**

I found the caves. But they were a disappointment. The network of caves and tunnels took three days for me to map and it was extensive, with a flourishing river that kept it cool and clean. But the river that ran through the tunnels also had a side effect. It kept the tunnels damp and soggy, with a continuous wind blowing through that made it really, really cold. I mean I am used to the cold since we live within the mountain, but this was something else.

I think I shall remember these tunnels, and not discard them as useless. They are rather complicated. A perfect place to escape to in case we are caught, or found. I will suggest this in the next counsel and make emergency portkeys immediately.

Meanwhile, I shall furnish this caves with some modicum of habitability. That will take some time, but this is where my companion will come in handy. I do not think he can talk if he is too busy using his hands and his magic, digging.

 

**Entry thirty-five**

The furnishing had to wait. I had to collapse some sections of the tunnels to make the muggles believe that the tunnels had caved in. I also wrecked around some greenery above ground and then used my magic to shift the earth slowly and softly, like a mini-earthquake.

They believed it. I did not sleep for the day, choosing instead to stay awake and read the minds of the people who visited, carrying strange items and gadgets that clicked and whirled. They shook their heads sadly and in disappointment. Their minds all said that the network of tunnels had collapsed too much to be interesting. I nearly laughed in relief.

 

**Entry thirty-six**

My companion is not the complaining type, apparently. I think this is why they chose him over all those who are stoically silent but probably whine at the possibility of work. That was a small blessing.

We have countered the problem of the dampness by using the same charms we used on the ceiling. The rooms are only slightly warm. The spells that the Bulgarians use against the cold cannot seem to withstand against the strange coldness of the tunnels.

We dug five corridors with ten rooms in each. It is enough to hold one community. I will have to send someone to continue the furnishings.

 

**Entry thirty-seven**

Our journey has gone somewhere far from the forests. I planned for a cave, but I the ideal solution presented itself to me. It was a long dead volcano in an abandoned island, one that was very far from the mainland and that had no attractions to warrant attention from the muggles. Its sands were black and frightening. The trees were withered and nearly fossilized. The air had the smell of decay. It took me only a single scan to find out why.

The island must have once been beautiful enough, with a small tropical forest and a volcano in the middle. But one untimely eruption and the paradise vanished. It also had a number of natural lakes that gave fresh water. That surprised me, seeing as it was a rare thing to see in the near middle of the sea. But the eruption had caused the fresh water to turn acidic. The corpses of animals that had mistakenly drunk from it caused the smell of decay.

I needed limestone. I added that to my list of things to do for the island. Some meditation, a massive notice-me-not spell incanted over the island and voila! We had a meeting place. I nearly fainted. I never did massive spells unless I had a proper rest beforehand, but this one was necessary.

My companion gave me some potions and then shaded me in the remains of a fossilized tree. He moved to fan me and stopped when I glared at him.

"Have we found it, Head Druid?" he asked excitedly, having guessed the spell I used.

I nearly rolled my eyes at him. "Yes. This just needs some work. And I need to work another spell."

When he looked worried, I nearly snarled. I mean I know I'm not young anymore, nor do I have the magical core that the children born in the caves acquire, but he could have at least acted differently.

It took a short rest and another swig of a pepper up potion. I worked a modified Fidelius charm. This was something that the Druids and I had worked on in one of the calmer moments when nobody was asking for help and no immediate problems presented themselves.

The problem with the Fidelius charm was that the moment the Secret Keeper died, all those he told would become the next Secret Keeper, thereby weakening the Secret. Our modified Fidelius countered that weakness that if the current Secret Keeper transferred the charm on someone else, then that person would become the next Secret Keeper.

The trick was transferring it, but we already worked out that kink.

Meditation helped shore my wavering strength and I casted the Fidelius on the entire island, with myself as the secret keeper.

I fainted, I think. Because the next thing I know, I'm back at the caves with the other Druids seated around me. The redhead, in particular, looked mutinous.

 

**Entry thirty-eight**

A month! They made me rest for a month and only allowed me to show my face in the counsel that happened every two weeks. It was no wonder there was a rumor about me dead. I wanted to smack some sense into them, but their arguments nearly got violent, especially when I pointed out some logical facts. I think the muggleborn wanted to shake me like a rattle.

The first time I showed up at the bi-weekly counsel, one of the children burst into tears. I sighed and allowed them all to crowd me in a hug. Yes, I despise the loud volume that children muster, but this was a one-time occurrence only. The women were sniffing and the men were suspiciously bright-eyed. I didn't hug them. They didn't need it.

They asked me what I found and I was surprised that my annoying companion hadn't rattled everything to his friends yet. When I discreetly looked around, I found that no one was sitting next to him. I wondered if this was a daily occurrence. I tucked the knowledge at the back of my mind.

I told them about the caves that I fashioned in the forests and they agreed to the precaution. The redhead in particular looked relieved. This was something that both of us had wondered at for a while.

Next, I told them about the island and the problems it had. With a little herbology, some potions and time, that island would be the base of our Grand Counsels. They all looked enthusiastic. They were already divvying up the rotations. When I moved to help, the muggleborn got that glint in her eye that told me she was prepared for an argument, so I sighed and sat back again, leaving the scheduling to her capable hands.

 

**Entry thirty-nine**

It has just been confirmed to me. That young man who accompanied me was probably a social outcast in his age group. I knew that would happen when I found out the circumstances of his birth.

He was one of the few that were born using the artificial wombs. His mother, I think, did not want to live alone after her husband was dead. She gave her egg to the mediwitches and watched them make a baby out of it. Only an egg…without a sperm. So that made him a special baby out of the number of special babies. His mother could not love him properly since he had nothing to remind her of the dead husband.

The reason why he is soo loud and talkative, as opposed to all the rest of the people, is because he wants the attention. I think he is going about it in the wrong way. But the boys mind is curious, imaginative and not limited by the structures that most of the wizards have. I think…I have found my apprentice.

Damn. I hope the muggleborn doesn't smirk at me where I can't kick her for it.

 

**Entry forty**

Some days, I wish to bang my head against a rock to just put me out of my misery. This boy will test my patience. He already tested my temper. I am holding back the urge to throttle him.

But he learns fast. If only he would understand that a certain volume in the caves makes it echo really far. That's why we whisper anyway. How are we supposed to keep secrets and conversations private when sound carries really well? Ugh, the brat. But still he remembers everything I say, except the thing about loudness. Perhaps I shall cast Aperio on his ears, and maybe he shall learn to whisper.

Hey! That's an idea. But doesn't that go against harming the people in the caves? Nope, it's not harming. It's teaching him a bleeding lesson. It will teach him patience at the same time anyway.

 

**Entry forty-one**

Yep. It's better with the Aperio on him. He can't help but pay attention to what I'm saying, seeing as now, he has something like cotton on his ears. He can't hear loud sounds very well too since they bounce around the tunnels, so he has to whisper. Success! He has learned to whisper!

 

**Entry forty-two**

We have covered the basics of inventions of the Romans and the Greeks. We tackled a bit of the Egyptians. I will leave that to the cursebreaker. I am not very accomplished with Egypt since I never really like the heat of the desert.

I will touch the history of magic, of how we were before the purge of the magicals, before the muggles discovered us and then proceeded to launch a nuclear missile that wiped nearly everything.

I hope I do not weep in the telling. I think this will be easier if I had a pensieve to show him and not tell him. But we had not had much success in recreating the magical bowl that held memories. The research department that is being headed by the muggleborn is getting there, but it is slow going.

 

**Entry forty-three**

He asked me about the other schools. I was able to tell him about Hogwarts since I went there. But I sent him to those who went to France and Bulgaria for the other two major schools. The minor ones, like Salem and the Institute of Magic, both of which were slowly getting their acclaim, were wiped out before they could achieve it. Another couple of decades and they would have been as famous as Hogwarts, with their large acceptance of the half bloods of any kind, (e.g. half-werewolves, half-vampires, half-veela and half-goblin).

The questions eventually touched the magical creatures that vanished upon the magical purge, like the house-elves and the unicorns. They were creatures that could have fled.

I told him that no one had seen them the moment the bomb touched magical soil. I think I sparked an idea in his mind.

Truly, he has the mind of a Druid, just not the disposition of one. I am slowly training him to whisper so that people can confide in him their problems, how to look at a problem from different angles and how to come up with a solution that will not hurt the caves in the future.

Damn it. He's making me proud.

 

**Entry forty-four**

The Grand Counsel is due to happen in a week. We have called back those in the outside world that are keeping a watch on the accidental magic of the muggleborn children. We made reusable portkeys for it and packed as much food as we could. We also brought some furs. We were one of the few caves that had a lot of it since we had a daily bartering system with the village. Apparently, our silks had gotten so precious that they used them slowly.

The sealing of the caves worried me. I told the Druids, who still wouldn't let me do anything, by the way, that the acromantula's should be given an exit in case something dire happened. The absent-minded blonde that had originally owned the acromantulas, spoke to them seriously about it and they chattered in excitement. I think the word, "free-reign" on the muggles that entered the cave made them excited. Truly, we tried to keep them fed but their appetite is rather big, especially for human flesh.

 

**Entry forty-five**

We have gotten so plenty. I nearly weep in joy. This is a finger to the faces of the bastards that ordered my kind extinct. The villagers have gotten used to the darkness that we, the Ancients, live with and were startled when we arrived at the island and it was only nearing dusk.

As one, everybody turned their faces to the sun and closed their eyes. This was going to be a ritual, I think. We no longer missed the light, but we did miss the gentle heat of the sun. The villagers followed suit. Even if they did not live in the caves, the sunlight was weak under the cliffs.

Everybody arrived slightly early. No one wanted to be late. All of my kind was gathered in one place for the first time in nearly fifty years. We blessed the island and did a short version of the Old Rituals. We kept it short. Everybody was itching to greet other people. There would be time for a longer ritual by the end of the Great Counsel.

There was nothing planned. With the women, I transfigured some stones into a long, sturdy table. We placed the food there. Typically, the men flocked to it. The children started the games, shrieking with joy and actually louder than they usually were. I cast a muted Aperio on myself to save my ears.

Someone took out the instruments and the dancing started. We witnessed several unofficial courtship dances and laughed along with them. The one not chosen would always be flocked by a number of other women anyway, so his loss was not so great.

The villagers were easy to find with their darker skin, but if you ignored the differences in appearance and focused on the intensity of the smiles and the magic that was constantly being used to summon food or change someone's hair color, they all looked alike. No one noticed the difference anyway. They were having too much fun.

The Druids flocked to me and we were actually talking and not whispering. We shared problems and news and just let the masks we usually wore, crumble. I think we surprised some people, especially when we burst into loud guffaws over a dirty joke.

The one that they asked me about was my apprentice, and as to who would be Head Druid when I was gone.

The redhead snorted when they mentioned my title. He knew I didn't like it. Just because I was first didn't mean that I was the wisest. That started a rant. They were wide-eyed when I finished and I flushed in embarrassment.

"Sorry," I muttered. But the title annoyed me, especially when I knew I wasn't the wisest of the Druids.

When I mentioned that to them, the herbologist, who I hadn't seen in thirty years after he transferred to the Alps, shut me up with a hand to my mouth.

"Stop that," he said. Well, he doesn't talk much, but when he does, I really listen. "You are the Head Druid because you don't think you should be. Anybody who thinks they deserve it - doesn't. But somebody who thinks he doesn't deserve it but acts like a Head Druid anyway, well, that person IS a Head Druid."

I was wide-eyed. "Well, if there was ever someone I would choose to be the next one, it would be you." I made him blush!

They all murmured agreement to what we both said. Both of us were embarrassed anyway, so the muggleborn had to clear her throat to get us back on topic.

"So, the apprentice?" she prodded.

I nodded, eager to change the subject. "Well, I know I was young when I was chosen, and I didn't know that much anyway, just an imagination and the will to see what I wanted done. And we learned, as we got older. Experience, you see. What to do when a couple wants to separate, what to provision when it's the male that wants separation and when it's the female that wants it."

They all nodded, having come across this one often. A courtship ritual gone wrong.

"Some of the things we know," I continued, "Can't be taught properly in our educational systems. We teach them about magic and the history, before the caves, but we can't exactly let them know how wonderful it was to be free above ground. And some of their minds aren't suited to know the knowledge anyway."

They were outraged. "You read their minds!"

I shrugged. "Just the surface. Most of it is superficial, like what they wish to eat for dinner, or what color they want the silk to be next. They cannot think past their own present. They are the type of people whose need created us, the Druids."

They subsided. They knew I didn't do it often. I wasn't magically powerful. In comparing magical strength, I was the weakest of all of them, and legilimency, or mind reading, took a lot of magical strength.

"And you read the boys mind," the redhead concluded. "And found him a potential Druid?"

I blushed. "No. I didn't even read his mind. His concept of birth is rather special."

So I told them. They were abuzz with the method but, at a sharp prod, went back on topic. "So you pitied him?"

"No, never that. He was imaginative. You remember that he was the one who accompanied me when I searched for this island? Well, I am not a very talkative companion and he managed to entertain himself. Several things he invented just to make our traveling easier. If he knows the history of inventions, he can be even greater. So I am teaching him."

The idea took root in their minds, to take on an apprentice so as to pass the knowledge they gleaned from their years of study and experimentation. I cautioned them all to be careful in picking one. Some people would use the knowledge we know and twist it to their own ends.

I should probably find what spells that only Druids should know and make a binding oath about it. If found in the wrong hands, those spells could destroy several nations.

 

**Entry forty-six**

The Grand Counsel lasted for a week. It was laden with happiness, laughter and games. It reminded me of the Quidditch World Cup in my youth. Oh, but we can no longer fly. Perhaps here, but never anywhere else.

Throughout the entire Grand Counsel, there were a total of twenty-seven couples that got into a courtship dance. I was rather stern with them when they asked to be handfasted. I asked them extremely difficult questions on how prepared they were to live together and out of the twenty-seven couples; only nine were properly bound for life. The others were dizzy and drunk on laughter when they came to me anyway.

By the name itself, we spent the last day airing out issues and problems to the general public. The ones most repeated were that they wanted to do this again, and more often. A short time conferring with the others and we all agreed to it, but there had to be terms as well. Playing was good and all, but we needed to work as well, so as to keep our society going and for the younger generations as well.

We kept it once a week every four months, but it would no longer be called a Grand Counsel since that would only happen once a year. The other get-togethers would be simple parties. Someone suggested that they make it an official time to get handfasted. I groaned when they all agreed.

There was always someone in the island anyway to continue the cleaning of the island. There was an off chance that we could transfer here someday. Meanwhile, I suggested that the women might want to help in the cleaning up, seeing as the island could serve as a day-care center for the children when it was habitable. They agreed. Weaving silk, or cooking while having a child underfoot was difficult.

 

**Entry forty-seven**

Idiots! Hare-brained buggers!

Well, this dagger I am wielding shall brain the next person who mentions Quidditch to me. I warn you, I have gotten proficient in using it.

An arsehole mentioned flying to the younger ones and now they all want to produce a broom. Nevermind that we have very few trees to experiment with! I tell them that nobody will touch the trees, or branches we have in our small garden. If they want to experiment on tree-trunks, then they will have to find a forest and cut themselves one.

Ugh! I was thinking about the Quidditch World Cup during the Grand Counsel but apparently, I wasn't alone in thinking it. And whoever shared my thoughts that day didn't just think it, the bloody bugger shared the idea with whoever would listen!

 

**Entry forty-eight**

I have now officially washed my hands off the Quidditch fanaticism that is running rampant in the caves. I leave it to the redhead Druid. When he was younger, he said, he used to play.

Hmpf!

The acromantulas all greeted us enthusiastically. We butchered several lions and dropped a shark on them for their meal. They can go for weeks without food, but we like to keep them full so as to keep the temptation to sample us away. They particularly enjoyed the shark and, as the absentminded blonde told us, asked for more of it the next time we went away.

They have gotten plenty enough that we have sent some away to the forest in South America. I dropped them on top of the underground caves. Their presence would drive away the humans.

 

**Entry forty-nine**

My apprentice has matured enough that I consented to remove the Aperio on him. Oh, I knew he could remove it with a simple finite, but he respected me enough not to tamper with my spell. When he could hear the chimes again, he gave a yell of happiness…and then cried out in pain to cover his sensitive ears. I held back my chuckles no matter how much he deserved it.

I am now teaching him the spells that we modified. I extracted an oath from him of course. My anxiety eased when he promised. The other Druids agreed with what I said. They each have chosen promising witches and wizards that they met in the Grand Counsel. They are well behaved, not loud and rambunctious like my apprentice was before the Aperio spell. Hmm, maybe they did cast Aperio on them.

 

**Entry fifty**

The effect of the island has touched all of us, the freedom of being able to see the sun and all. Our skins are no longer as white as one entombed. We have a slightly darker shade, but we are still white. I think we will never get a tan. Only time will tell. Our claws will remain of course, as well as our extremely sensitive ears. But the luminescence in our eyes has dimmed slightly and I discovered something new about it.

There is a constant change in light for us, from the deep darkness of the caves to the warm shade of the sunlight, that the magic adjusted our eyes again. We could not be like the owls, who cannot see in the daylight, and we could not be like everyone else, blind in the dark, so the magic made our eyes able to shift, from dark-seeing to light-seeing.

I hope we do not lose this change. It is extremely useful. I know we will never live in freedom, not after living in freedom caused wars and death. All of us are careful of freedom. It is a dangerous thing.

 

**Entry fifty-one**

The redhead suggested a more martial approach to things. Some children were still undisciplined and we needed discipline in order to survive. So in our spare time, I have been teaching them the forms of muggle fighting (the young man that taught it to us in the village is long dead). It keeps them occupied and not looking for trouble (e.g. stealing the chimes, tapping on the artificial wombs yelling, "Hello Baby? Can you hear me?" and so on.).

The island becoming habitable, the herbologists have transferred there en masse. Some women followed them, saying that they needed a larger spot to plant some food. The villagers wanted to transfer too, saying that the sunlight of the place was greater.

I wanted to bang their heads for them to make sense. I told them they could transfer but not immediately. They still had to build huts and properly colonize the area. The island was large enough that they left the volcano alone, seeing as the area near the Volcano was where we had Grand Counsels and all.

The herbologists and the women didn't like huts. They had gotten so used to planting in the darkness that the sunlight wasn't very appealing to them. So they stuck to the small caves that littered the area.

I waited for someone else to say that they wanted to move out, but nobody did. I think they understood my fears as well. It only took three bombs for them to remove all the magical communities. If we sat in one area, then we were vulnerable to a mass genocide.

 

**Entry fifty-two**

That day was rather memorable, but it started out simple.

We had all learned to speak to the younger acromantula's, and the bigger ones all spoke our language after a century of living with us. I was eating in the commons area and there was a loud chittering behind me. Three baby acromantulas looking at me in excitement and one large acromantula seemingly annoyed, but you can never tell with these creatures.

"Yes?" I asked them politely.

"The younger ones say that there is a man outside the cave. I do not know, seeing as he has not ventured close enough yet. Our instructions are to eat any stranger that does not smell of magic, but we cannot eat him,"

I thanked them and fed them the rest of my meal. The younger ones gave a moue of disgust since I was eating berries and apples. The bigger one ate it quickly. He had learned the value of eating where you can.

I ventured outside and checked the time. It was nearing dusk. I knew we moved better in the darkness so I waited for the night. Meanwhile, I shushed the colony behind me and listened.

"Hello?" a man was yelling. "Anybody there? Please, I need some help. Hello?"

He sounded desperate. I peeked over the entrance and saw him wandering around like a blundering fool. He was far away from the entrance but still close enough for a legilimency.

His mind was panicked so it took me a while but his daughter came with him to his hiking trip across the Himalayas and was taken by a fever that was so high she risked killing herself. And he had apparently heard of the ghosts of the mountains from the natives farther south and would do anything just for help.

I checked the time again and found it dark enough to obscure our special features.

A silencing charm and quiet stealth was enough for me to creep behind him. I tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped.

"You asked for help?" I said mildly.

"What?" he stammered.

Darn, I forgot that our language had changed. I think I can manage English, but it will be choppy at best.

"You..help?" I gestured to him, miming an injury.

He looked so relieved the he babbled. "My daughter…." And he went on to talk about her sickness, how quickly it came and how sudden her collapse was.

Well, it sounded like fatigue mixed with fever and a lot of dehydration. With a quick gesture, I shut him up. I took Bitterroot and Feverfew from my satchel and wrapped it with acromantula silk to keep it warm and untouched by the snow. I gave it to him and mimed boiling.

He wanted to thank me, to know my name. I left before he could say anything else. My name was something I practiced forgetting. Why should I tell a complete stranger anyway?

 

**Entry fifty-three**

I didn't want to talk about it, but I wasn't a coward. The first person I confided in was the herbologist. I think I shocked him with my visit since I am a busy person. I babbled to him about helping a muggle and being guilty and scared.

He called for an emergency counsel with all the Druids, to be held in the island. I think his call worried everyone since they came fairly quickly. I wasn't looking at them anyway, I was burying my face in the furs, trying to hide my tears and trying to will the earth to shoot out spikes to kill me.

With some calming draughts, they managed to coax the story out of me. The redhead and the muggleborn knew some parts of the story since they watched my interaction with the acromantula's. I told them about the pity that went out of me when I heard the mans cry for help and his need for the herbs which only the wizards had.

They all were pretty surprised and shocked in one setting. I think what tickled the herbologist the most was that we had devolved into legends in the mountain.

"What do we do?" I moaned. I was still not looking at them anyway.

I heard someone clear her throat knew it was the muggleborn. She was the only one I knew that did that.

"We knew that we would someday be discovered, right? So why don't we ease our way into society? So that by the time they do, they will think of us as local healers or miracle workers?"

I was touched by the idea. I finally looked at them and found them giving me looks of amusement. I flushed. "What, I panicked, okay? We didn't have contingent plans for helping muggles."

They laughed. But I bet them that they wouldn't be laughing when they told the Grand Counsel. Druids were a special lot that thought outside of the box and thought deeply and often of the future. The others weren't such and they would think helping muggles would be beneath them. I knew some still wanted revenge and just channeled that frustration in muggle fighting. I saw it in their eyes as they practiced. I understood them, just as much as I made them understand that revenge took a backseat to survival.

But this wasn't survival. I fear it won't end well.

.

* * *

 

.

This was the last entry in the journal of the First Druid. The wizards have kept it in pristine condition. The wizards have very long memories and thought of her fondly.

There are some speculation as to why the journal was cut short and her apprentice pushes forward the fact that after that entry, she spent most of her time spying on the closest village to the caves, trying to match up their legends to the real thing. The constant exposure to the cold and the hard nights just watching and continuously using legilimens on the humans probably started off her illness.

She died long before the First Contact of the humans. The First Contact was a melancholic day for the wizards, seeing as it was the late Head Druids dearest wish to see our people in harmony. Her apprentice, so written as the annoying companion, was none other than the Greatest Head Druid. His name was Theodore Lupin and he finalized a plan that she and her friends established.

She never had children since her time was spent helping the wizards but she had a brief, romantic liaison with the herbologist, whose real name was Neville Longbottom.

The redhead, whose real name was Ronald Weasley, and the muggleborn, whose real name was Hermione Granger, eventually established a treaty with the muggles who slowly accepted the appearance of the wizards.

Her real name was never discovered but a search amongst her things unearthed a Potter and Black crest, leading us to wonder if she was the Girl-Who-Lived, the one that died in the last war. Perhaps she is, or maybe she is only a close friend.

One thing is certain, History will remember her as the one who made an entire race live and survive the changes wrought on them.

Translated by:

Tamina Margaret James  
Head of the Magical Liaison Office

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also available at [tumblr](http://ladyhallen.tumblr.com)


End file.
